Perimenopause Mood Swings Have Me Relating to 2007 Britney… and I Wish I Was Kidding

There was a time I didn’t get it. I watched Britney shave her head and swing an umbrella at a car like it personally insulted her… and I thought, wow, she’s lost it.

And now I’m over here in perimenopause, standing in the kitchen having a silent meltdown because my husband asked what’s for dinner — and suddenly, Britney’s actions make perfect sense.

It’s not that I want to snap. It’s that I’m constantly hovering between overstimulated, exhausted, and hormonally betrayed — and all of it feels like it’s happening behind the scenes while I’m still expected to carry on like everything’s fine.

But spoiler: it’s not fine.

My body is changing, my moods are unhinged ( shoutout to perimenopause mood swings), my sleep is trash, and some days I feel like I’m one mildly annoying question away from swinging an umbrella of my own. (I won’t. But like… mentally? Already did.)

And the worst part? Most of us are out here trying to keep it together in silence. We think we’re the only ones who can’t concentrate. The only ones rage-crying for no reason. The only ones Googling “why do I feel insane before my period now” at 3 a.m. with one eye open.

But we’re not alone. We’re just in perimenopause — a phase that no one warned us would feel like puberty with bills, emotional whiplash, and a shifting identity all rolled into one.

It’s wild how many women are walking around holding it together with caffeine and grit, wondering if they’re just broken — when really, their hormones are just playing bumper cars with their sanity.

And life doesn’t slow down to give you space to figure it out. You’re still managing a house, a job, adult(ish) kids, and the never-ending question of “who even am I right now?”

No one talks about how hard it is to function when your mind and body stop feeling familiar. How much grief comes with that. Or how isolating it feels when you’re spiraling in silence while everyone around you expects you to act like the same woman you were five years ago.

Spoiler: she’s gone. And I don’t miss her.

Because as much as I joke about Britney-level meltdowns, there’s also a quiet strength in this new version of me. The one who doesn’t pretend. The one who’s a little more unbothered. The one who’s finally learning to show up without putting herself last.

But no — Britney wasn’t in perimenopause back then. That wasn’t her story.

But now that I am, I get it.

Not the details. Not the fame.

Just the feeling of completely losing it while everyone expects you to keep smiling and make dinner like your left eyelid isn’t twitching.

Different reasons. Same energy.

And if you’re sitting there wondering if you’re the only one who feels like their hormones hijacked their personality — you’re not. This isn’t you losing it. It’s just you navigating a plot twist no one warned you about.

So no, you’re not crazy. You’re just in your midlife main character arc, and honestly? You deserve a standing ovation for functioning at all.

If you missed the TikTok that kicked this whole thing off, you can catch it below—where I'm usually posting something unhinged, sarcastic, or both... and occasionally sappy (don't tell anyone).

Don't have a Tiktok? That's tragic. I mean... Instagram is not my favorite place, but you might catch me there too — watch here.

Come hang out. Or don’t. No pressure.

This is midlife — we do what we want.